As If Things Could Get No Worse
by frenchhornapocalypse
Summary: Taking place in a time period that I haven't decided yet, three friends try to survive their fifth year at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Follow their adventures, whether they be on the quidditch pitch, in the forbidden forest, or just in the great hall- I promise there will be something for everyone. Rated T for language and a future relationship. No smut.
1. Quidditch

"Zachary Lawrence! This is the fifth time this week I have called you out for something!"

The boy in question lifted his head up from his desk, slowly lowering his wand. Professor McGonagall walked over and took his wand from his hand, tapping her finger on his blank parchment.  
"You should be taking notes, not trying to hex other students. You can get this back after class, only because it is required in others. Now, pick up your quill. Good job, and start writing. Thank you. I'm running out of warnings, Zachary. One more time and I _will_ give you detention."  
"Yes ma'am…" Zachary mumbled, staring at his quill to avoid looking at her as she strolled back up to the blackboard and started writing again.  
"How the hell do you keep managing this?" Asked a boy's voice behind him. He turned around to face his friend, Lucas.

Lucas Taylor. Half blood, youngest son of Theodore and Y'vonne Taylor. Fourteen and a half, fifteen in January. Fifth year Gryffindor. On his head lies blonde hair, falling right above his chin. His bright green eyes could be described as 'always open, full of life'. He seeks adventure, usually getting his friends in trouble. Lucas has his own chair in the Headmaster's office.

Lucas' eyebrows furrowed as he tried to concentrate on the lecture being given and Zachary. Zachary smiled slightly "Just lucky, I guess." he whispered, turning around once Lucas let out a soft laugh and started taking notes again.

Zachary Lawrence. Pure blood, youngest of five children of Gregory and Angeline Lawrence. Fifteen years old. Fifth year Gryffindor. A dark brown mop occupies his head, and bright blue eyes sit behind thin, rectangle shaped glasses. Freckles scatter his face, though some could be mistaken for the several scratches and scars that he so rightfully earned playing chaser on the Gryffindor quidditch team. Some would define Zachary as a childish excuse for a teen, others would define him as a coward.

"So when are you going to start actually obeying the rules?"  
Both boys laughed as they walked through the corridor, heading to lunch. "Me? Follow the rules? Who _are_ you?! What have you done with Lucas?! I don't think my friend knows me anymore!" Zachary said dramatically. He walked into the great hall and sat down, shoving his bag underneath the table. "So lunch. Do you know what's on the menu today?"  
"Not sure" Lucas said with a shrug "Hopefully something that'll give you energy. You've got that quidditch match tonight and need every bit you've got. We need to win. Slytherin cannot win." With the last sentence he slammed his fist on the table. A few students looked over, only to realize that no one was getting pushed into the table, and went back to their conversations.  
"Don't worry, I'm going to slaughter them." He looked back at the Slytherin table, making eye contact with one of their beaters, and a smirk fell on his face. "Slaughter."

Zachary was back in a desk, now in History of Magic, holding his head up with his hand. His glasses started falling down his nose as his head fell forward.  
"Zach…."  
A drop of drool rolled off his bottom lip onto his desk and his hand slipped, his head now bobbing slightly as his neck held it up off of the desk.  
"Zachary. Hey. Lawrence."  
Eventually, his head found the desk and he rested on his cheek, his glasses going crooked, nearly falling off. He made a few noises as he fell asleep, however no one in the class seemed to notice. Except for…  
"Zachary!" A female voice shouted.  
He jolted awake, bringing his head up so quickly that his glasses flew off and onto the floor. "I-I've got the quaffle I'm bringing it in!" He nearly yelled.  
"Mr. Lawrence? You are not at a quidditch match."  
Zachary looked up slowly, coming eye to eye with Professor Binns.  
"You do understand that everywhere you go, you are not entitled to do what you want just because you're an athlete, correct? This includes sleeping in my class."  
Zachary looked back at the girl sitting behind him. Her face was positioned in a smirk and she watched Professor Binns move back up to the front of the room, writing something on a piece of parchment. "Why didn't you wake me?" He asked, rubbing his eyes.  
"I did." She said, rolling her eyes "Fix your hair. You look like a porcupine. And I tried. I whispered your name over and over again but you kept dozing back off."  
He ran his hand through his hair, only making it messier "You should have just thrown something at me."  
"And then I get in trouble? Fat chance. Anyway, you're needed."  
He was being beckoned to the front of the room, Professor Binns motioning towards a piece of parchment with a short paragraph written on it. "Your assignment, Mr. Lawrence. I expect it done by next class. Hopefully this will teach you to stay awake. Now, return to your seat. I have a lecture to finish, and you have O. to pass this year."  
Zachary walked slowly back to his desk, sitting down and looking over his parchment.

 _Two feet of parchment… Explain the giant wars and why they are significant to the wizarding world. I suggest borrowing as many books as you can from the library, as there is only a limited amount of information in your assigned book for this class. Due next class._

"Two feet?! What about the match?!" Lucas shouted when Zachary sat back down and told him.  
"I guess I'll start it at dinner…" Zachary said with a sigh, folding up the parchment and putting it in his bag.

The rest of the lesson dragged on, and every time Zachary looked at the clock he could have sworn the hands were moving backward. "A watched pot never boils…" he mumbled to himself, hoping that the common phrase would somehow come in handy with his clock dilemma. Looking down at his notes, he realized that there was no way he was going to be able to read them later, and folded the parchment up with a sigh.

It was as if an angel had come down to save him. The bell rang. Zachary jumped to his feet and shoved all of his materials, which were strewn over his desk, into his bag. He practically ran out of the classroom and into the hall, and within seconds found himself face first into the floor.  
"Lawrence! What the hell was that?!" Cried a female voice. He recognized this voice, and in an instant he felt all hope of freedom drain from his body.

"H-Harper I didn't mean-" He stammered, trying to find a way to apologize as he stood up, picking up his bag and swinging it over his shoulder.

Harper Rivers. Youngest daughter of Jeremiah and Rose Rivers. Fifteen years old, fifth year Slytherin. She would be hard to miss in a crowd, as her red hair is as bright as a ruby. She is only as tall as Zachary's shoulder, and Lucas' chin. Though, make her mad, and you'd wish you were never born. One look into her green eyes and you'd have to use a counterspell against whatever she put you under. Ginger is the only description worthy of Harper Rivers.

"Don't waste your breath, Zachary. You know me better than that." Harper said with a sigh, brushing some of her hair out of her face. She looked at Zachary and her eyes narrowed. "Are you alright? Zach."  
Zachary blinked a few times before nodding quickly. 'Lovely.' he thought to himself; 'I zoned out again. What is it with her? She seems to put that sort of spell on me, even when she's yelling at me.'

When everything came clear, he shoved her hand out of his face. "Sorry." He managed to get out before putting his hands in his pockets and starting to head off to his dormitory. "I'm just a bit stressed out. I've got to go drop my books off and be at the pitch within ten minutes and you know, we're playing your house today. They're not an easy bunch to conquer."  
"They're not vikings, Zach." She said, a small smile spreading on her lips. "And anyway, you'll be fine. You always are. You're big tough chaser Zachary Lawrence."  
"I know but today feels different. Maybe I'm just imagining things. I'll see you at the match?"  
"Wouldn't miss it. Good luck." She said with a wave, walking towards the stairs that led to the Slytherin common room.

Zachary's nervous footsteps quickly turned to a sprint as he made his way upstairs, wheezed the password to the portrait, ran up the stairs to his common room, and threw his bag down, not staying long enough to see where it landed. He continued his sprint until he was outside, his shoes no longer hitting stone but soft, moist earth. The castle always seemed to get bigger when he was in a hurry. His chest was burning as he rushed to the pitch.

"You alright, Lawrence?"

"I'm fine. I just got stopped in the hall. How long until we start?"  
"About ten minutes. You're fine on time. Go get changed."  
Zachary nodded towards his captain, then turned on his heel towards the locker room. Within three minutes he was in full gear, clutching his Nimbus 2001 in his right hand.  
"O'Leary's got a speech for us." A teammate whispered to him as he made his way towards the door. Zachary sighed and nodded, sitting down on a bench in the center of the room.

"As you all know-" Dean O'Leary began, his voice echoing through the small room "This is the biggest match of the season. This year, I know we will bring home the cup. Last year was tough. We were beat out by Ravenclaw-"

Several groans filled the room, but Dean didn't seem to hear them as he kept talking.

"But this year is different! This year we have trained harder-"  
"Yeah, nearly every day until dusk"  
"We have given everything we have"  
"Dean I think I've run out of everything I have"  
"And we have brought a team that Hogwarts has never seen before! We've only lost one match this year, team. And now is the time to prove that we can bring home the cup. Are you all ready to win?!"  
"Beat the snakes!" Shouted the seeker, to which the rest of the team responded "Slaughter the snakes!" And chanted such as they walked out onto the pitch.

Muffled cheers filled his ears as he stepped past the barrier onto the pitch. He looked up at the goalposts and brushed some of his hair out of his eyes, fixing his glasses. He could feel the wind blowing through the mop on his head and hoped that it wouldn't effect broom steering. Chants of "Gry-Ffin-Dor" And "Sly-Ther-In" were mixed with the wind blowing past his ears. He closed his eyes for a moment before a cocky grin took over his face and he mounted his broom, waiting for the whistle of approval.

Within seconds, he could feel the wind take him off the ground and into the sky. He adjusted his grip on the broomstick handle and looked down at his fingertips to make sure they weren't turning red from him cutting off his circulation. Wind blew his hair back and his forehead glistened with sweat in the afternoon sun. His glasses shielded the wind from burning his eyes, but didn't block the sun's glares. He looked down at the shrinking ground- at the shrinking stands, and couldn't help but laugh. Flying was his favorite thing in the world. If he was every angry, or sad, or just needed a breather, one could almost always find him on the pitch. It was his therapy. Who needed someone to talk to when your broom could do all the talking for you? His moment of paradise was taken to a halt, however, by more blowing of a whistle and Dean shouting "Go! Zachary focus!" He caught a glimpse of green and took off after it, ducking as a bludger came towards his head.

His hands wrapped around the quaffle and he zoomed towards the goal post, holding onto his broom with one hand and throwing the ball as hard as he could. He heard a loud ding and cheers filling the stands. He didn't have time to see if he had made it, but from the noise he assumed that he had. His other hand clenched itself back onto the broom and he swerved, avoiding an opponent, obviously older than he, who was going towards the back of his broom. "Stop breaking the rules and learn to play fair!" He shouted, which earned a laugh from the older boy.

"How about you focus and try to actually win your team some points, Mr. Dreamy?!" The boy shouted back.

Zachary glared at him, trying to control his anger as he turned his focus back to the match. This was all their plan. They knew that Zachary had a very low anger tolerance, and if enough buttons were pushed, or if one was pushed in just the right place, he was off like a firecracker. Holding his breath, he looked around. He glanced at the scoreboard and smiled.

Gryffindor- 40

Slytherin- 20

Another roar of cheers erupted from the stands and a loud "The snitch has been spotted!" was called over the speaker. Zachary couldn't help but wonder who it was, but not long after the thought crossed his mind, he heard loud cursing from the Slytherin seeker. "Look who's bringing home the cup" he whispered to himself, a small smirk on his face. He went to get the quaffle from a Slytherin chaser and huffed as he stopped.  
"What, can't hit me 'cause I'm a girl?" The snake mocked

"No, I can't hit you because it's against the rules. I can, however, do this." Zachary replied, flying around her in circles, causing her to drop the quaffle from diverting her focus to him instead of it. He smiled and swooped below her, grabbing the ball before it hit the ground, and flew quickly towards the goal post.

In a matter of minutes, there was a loud 'crack!' and Zachary tightened his grip on his broom as smoke filled the pitch. He couldn't see where he was going, and he could only assume that no one else did as there were yells from other players to 'Land! Land now!'. He tried to maneuver his way to the ground, squinting so that he could see better, and seconds later felt a thud as he hit the ground. He tried to open his eyes. He tried to stay awake, but he had just fallen from the height of the goal posts. Eventually, and against everything he was trying to accomplish, he let his eyes close and his body relax, hoping that someone would find him- wherever he was.

"Is he awake?"

"Don't bother him, Lucas. He needs rest."

"You didn't answer my question, Harper. Is he awake?"

"Lucas shush. Look, he's waking up."

Zachary groaned slightly as he opened his eyes, closing them again as light shone right into them, nearly blinding him. He waited a minute then sat up, putting a hand beside him to steady himself. He gripped a sheet. A sheet? He was just at a quidditch match! As his eyes focused, he squinted and looked around. There were a few other students, still in their quidditch uniforms, still knocked out. Two were awake and were also sitting up, looking as confused as he was.

"You're in the hospital wing, mate. Some idiot shot off a firecracker and it exploded in the middle of the pitch, causing three of our guys and four of Slytherin's to fall. You shoulda seen Hooch, oh she was furious. I heard Slytherin seeker demanding a rematch. They still haven't found who set it off, but they're looking."

Zachary rubbed his eyes and blinked, focusing them on the two figures standing in front of him. Harper looked panicked, which was reassuring to him, in some way. Lucas looked angry. Harper handed him his glasses. "They shattered when you fell." She explained "I had to use reparo to fix them. I might have messed up, let me know if it worked."

He put them on and blinked, then nodded. "They're fine.. Thanks."  
She nodded and smiled.

"How long have I been here?" He asked, his voice hoarse.

"Just a few hours. We've already had dinner, though I don't think many people ate. We were all worried about you guys. You've broken an arm, though it's already been repaired. She said there'll be bruising, and to be careful. You're lucky. One of our beaters, you know, Jamie, she fell and broke a few ribs. She's gonna be in here a while. Not allowed to play in the rematch."

Zachary still looked confused, and looked around more. He groaned in pain and lied back down, closing his eyes.  
"Let's let him sleep." Harper suggested, and Lucas reluctantly nodded. All three of them knew it was going to be a long week, with Slytherin down their backs. There was unfinished business. And it was about to be finished.


	2. The Hospital Wing

**Chapter Two**

If there was anything more boring than sitting in the hospital wing than Zachary wanted to know because to his knowledge this was the most boring few days of his life. "One day at a time" Harper would tell him. "One day at a time."

He sat up in his bed early one morning and stretched, wincing as he was starting to get feeling back in his arm. He rubbed his eyes tiredly and they focused on a folded piece of parchment at the foot of his bed. He picked it up and opened it, straining his eyes to read it.

 _Zachary,_

 _We hope you're doing well. We're not allowed to stay as long as before because we were told you need rest. Lucas put up a fight; I hope it didn't wake you. We're allowed to visit after dinner but that's it. I hope you're okay with that. We asked, and you're allowed to continue your classwork in the hospital wing. I've been taking double notes, so I have everything you need. And your assignments are all on your bed; they've been adding up over the past three days. I'll bring them up after dinner. Also think about anything else you want Lucas to get from your chest and he'll bring it up tomorrow. You should be out tomorrow though, so I don't know if it really matters. Keep resting your arm, and stop fighting away the strengthening potion. You need it, Zach. Stop being so stubborn._

 _-Harper (and Lucas)_

Zachary couldn't help but smile at his friends' letter. He wasn't thrilled about the classwork, but he knew that if he didn't do it, he'd have a talk with his father when he got home for break. He folded the parchment back up and put it under his pillow, getting up slowly and heading to the bathroom. He came back out a few minutes later to a tray of breakfast on his bed, and he sat back down, starting to eat. The porridge he was given was hot, and he had to remind himself over and over not to eat too quickly or he would burn his mouth. He picked up a piece of toast and took a bite, yawning and shoving his glasses on his face with his free hand. He heard Madame Pomfrey come over and smiled at her.  
"Good morning, Mr. Lawrence. How are you feeling?"  
"I'm fine. A little sore, but I guess that's to be expected. When can I leave?"  
"I'll tell you the same thing I told your friends. Once you have feeling in your arm again, and you can prove to me that you can write with it, then I will let you go. Until then, it is not safe for you to be roaming the castle."  
"I can feel it!"  
"We'll test that theory later. For now, finish your breakfast and I'll have your classwork sent up. You can at least start reading."

He sighed but nodded, not having the energy to argue. A few minutes later a house elf apparated in with his potions textbook, and handed it to him.

"Here you are, sir. I have been told to tell you to read chapters 8-11."  
"Thank you." He said, taking the book from the elf's hands.  
The elf nodded and, with a pop, was gone.

Zachary closed his eyes for a minute then opened them again, leaning back in the bed and opening his book. He took in a deep breath and started reading.

Time ticked by and the words moved around the page, turning into one big ball of ink as his eyelids fell again, his book falling out of his hand onto the floor. His quiet snores replaced his bored sighs within minutes of starting chapter 9.

"Zach… Zach she said you can leave.. Wake up it's nearly dinner time…"  
Zachary opened his eyes and blinked, bright red being the first thing his eyes focused on. Harper. He smiled tiredly and sat up, searching for his glasses.  
"C'mon, Zachary. Lucas is waiting for you outside. She said he wasn't allowed in after his behaviour last time." She handed him his glasses, picking his book up off the floor. "Dinner is in twenty minutes, but I wasn't sure if you wanted to shower before you went. You've been in here a while."  
"Ah… Y-yeah.. Thanks Harper.." He said, sliding out of bed slowly and standing up. "Where's my uniform? I don't really think walking the halls in a gown would do good things for my social status."  
"What social status?" She asked, smirking.

"I've got one. It's a good one, too." He replied, catching the smile on her face and returning it. "Where is it?"  
"It's in the locker rooms already. It's been washed and put away. But Lucas brought you clothes. I'll go grab them from him stay here."  
He nodded and watched as she sped out of the room, coming back a minute later with a green long sleeved shirt and blue jeans. She handed them to him and smiled. "Now go shower. I'll see you at dinner."  
"Alright.. Thanks." He smiled and changed quickly, then walked out the doors to the hospital wing, only to be nearly tackled to the ground by a blonde blur.

"Zach!" Lucas shouted happily. Zachary grabbed onto the wall so that he wouldn't fall over, laughing tiredly. "I didn't die, Lucas. Nor was I in any danger to."  
"I know that. But do you realize how boring class has been?"  
"Oh, sorry I haven't been there to get us in trouble." Zachary joked. He did miss class, though. He missed people, and being able to do something other than sit in a bed all day. "I'm going to go shower. Are you coming with or are you heading to dinner?"  
"Are you kidding? I haven't seen you walk in four days, I'm walking with you."  
Harper rolled her eyes "See you guys later." She said with a wave, walking towards the great hall. Zachary watched her leave, not realizing he was staring until Lucas smacked his cheek. "You're staring again, mate. You've gotta stop doing that or she'll notice."  
"You think she hasn't noticed yet? I think she's doing it on purpose." Zachary said with a huff.

"Well either way, you're going to get yourself hurt again if you keep zoning out. C'mon, let's go upstairs. Maybe a hot shower will wake you up."

The two boys made their way upstairs, Lucas going on and on about what had happened the past four days, Zachary nodding whenever he was asked 'are you listening?'. He wasn't listening, but he didn't want to tell that to Lucas. It was best just to smile and nod. They walked up to the portrait hole and Lucas said "Licorice wands", walking in when it swung open. He went upstairs, following Zachary, and smiled gently at a boy who was sitting on the couch in the common room reading.

"There's a kid down there, Zach. He looks kinda like you. Are you sure you're the youngest?"  
"I'm the last Lawrence kid, Lucas. I'm positive."  
"Alright. I'll believe you. But I wanna know who that kid is."  
"Then go ask him."  
"Not right now. It's not the right time."

"Whatever you say." Zachary said, rolling his eyes and laughing. He grabbed a clean uniform from his trunk and a towel, heading towards the bathroom. "Don't bother the kid." He said before shutting the door.

Lucas sighed and sat on the bed, staring at his blanket. He looked up at the bathroom door again, then back at the bed. He didn't want to bother Zachary. He was probably still in pain and needed time to shower. More time than usual, at least. He was just bored. He didn't like sitting still, and the fact that he was sitting still while his best friend was in the bathroom, one whom he hadn't seen in four days, was making him restless. He took in a deep breath and stood up, going into the bathroom and up to one of the showers. He closed his eyes as he spoke, not wanting to ruin Zachary's privacy, even if there was a curtain between them.  
"Lucas what is it?" Zachary asked, a twinge of annoyance in his voice.  
"Are you almost done?" Lucas nearly whined.

"I'm still trying to wash my hair. My arm hurts like hell."

Lucas stood quietly, watching the curtain move with every move that a Zachary made. He thought for a few minutes then spoke.  
"Do you want help?"

The bathroom went quiet, the only sound being their breathing and the water. Time seemed to stop. Had he said something wrong? They had been friends for ten years, it isn't like they haven't seen each other before.

"If… If you want to help, then sure." Zachary finally replied, his voice hitching slightly.

Lucas got undressed and grabbed a towel, putting it on the floor next to Zachary's, then got in. He looked at Zach's side, noticing heavy bruising, and frowned "Man.. You really got beat up.."

"No shit, Lucas. Please help me, I want to go get dinner. I miss the great hall already."  
"Okay, okay. Give me the shampoo."

The shower went less awkward than either of them had expected, and was mostly filled with Lucas worrying about hurting Zachary.

"Does it hurt if I do this?"

"No."

"So you're sure I'm not hurting you?"

"Lucas. You're touching my hand I'm sure."

Once both boys had showered, they were dressed and walking to the great hall. Zachary sat down in his usual spot, trying to ignore the looks that the other students were giving him.

"Geez.. You'd think I was a ghost or something.." he said, filling his plate with food.

"Well you were in the hospital wing for four days."

"For a broken arm."  
"You're a quidditch player. You're pretty much famous."

"I'm a chaser. There's three of us."

"Still… I'd kill to play quidditch."

"Then try out."

"Have you seen me on a broom? No chance I'd make it."

Zachary nodded softly, remembering the last time his friend was on a broom.

" _Zach look I'm doing it!" Lucas yelled. He was eleven years old, holding tightly onto his Cleansweep 5.  
Zachary smiled, watching his friend fly around his backyard. "I'm gonna go get my broom! Stay there!" He yelled back, running inside. He could have sworn he could hear 'Zach no hands!' as he ran up the stairs to his room, and as his hand wrapped around the handle to his own broom, he froze, hearing a scream, and a crash. He dropped his broom and ran downstairs and outside, looking in horror at his friend, who was sitting on the ground, his arm nearly backwards. Lucas was crying, gasping for air. _

" _Mum!" Zachary yelled, running inside._

" _What is it?" His mum asked, looking back at him from her book. She was sitting on the kitchen counter reading as she waited for the cookies in the oven to finish._

" _Lucas… Broom… Fell… Broken…" Was all he managed to get out. His mum stood quickly, running outside, and within minutes the three of them had apparated to the hospital with the story that "He had fallen off his bicycle while riding down a hill."_

"Yeah you shouldn't try out. But I still wish they'd stop looking at me. It's making it difficult to focus on eating."  
"I'll handle this." Lucas said, standing up. All the eyes in the great hall were on him now. Zachary groaned and put his head on the table, trying to avoid all eye contact. "People!" Lucas started, no fear in his body whatsoever. "If you could kindly stop looking at my friend, that would be great! Thank you!" He sat back down, a look of accomplishment on his face. Zachary looked up at him "Be honest with me. Do you really think that helped?"  
The room was now silent, but soon returned to its normal volume, murmurs of "What is wrong with him?" and "Typical Gryffindor" now replacing usual conversation. Zachary ate quickly then got up, looking at Lucas. "I'm going to bed." He said, then turned and headed upstairs, making his quick escape from any more public humiliation that may come.


End file.
